Delicate though they may seem, willows were designed to be able to move into the most extreme environments.

In the harsh landscape of the high arctic, after even the heartiest conifers cease to grow, you will find whole fields of humble dwarf willows. Seeking water in the desert, you’d be wise to search for their familiar green fringe signaling hidden channels of water.

If you break off the flexible wand of a willow’s branch, it has the ability to re-root almost anywhere. With this intricate strategy, evolved over many millennia of living along river currents and stormy tides, willow branches simply allow themselves to be carried downstream where they can grow anew.

Born from breakage, willows embrace the turbulence that comes with perching yourself on the bank of a moving world, and they are able to use that tumult to thrive.

There is no question that we live in a tumultuous time. And yet, we too we’re born from breakage. We too are here to help the Earth recover and thrive.



Learn the profoundly healing message of Willows (and why self-forgiveness is like willow water, whatever it pours on will thrive). From Chapter 9 of Mirrors in the Earth.

Old Legend of Forest Home

An Old Legend says:

According to an old Native American legend, one day there was a big fire in the forest. All the animals fled in terror in all directions, because it was a very violent fire. Suddenly, the jaguar saw a hummingbird pass over his head, but in the opposite direction. The hummingbird flew towards the fire!
Whatever happened, he wouldn’t stop. Moments later, the jaguar saw him pass again, this time in the same direction as the jaguar was walking. He could observe this coming and going until he decided to ask the bird about it because it seemed very bizarre behavior.

“What are you doing, hummingbird?” he asked.

“I am going to the lake,” he answered, “I drink water with my beak and throw it on the fire to extinguish it.” The jaguar laughed. ‘Are you crazy? Do you really think that you can put out that big fire on your own with your very small beak?’
‘No,’ said the hummingbird, ‘I know I can’t. But the forest is my home. It feeds me, it shelters me and my family. I am very grateful for that. And I help the forest grow by pollinating its flowers. I am part of her and the forest is part of me. I know I can’t put out the fire, but I must do my part.’

At that moment, the forest spirits, who listened to the hummingbird, were moved by the birdie and its devotion to the forest. And miraculously they sent a torrential downpour, which put an end to the great fire.
The Native American grandmothers would occasionally tell this story to their grandchildren, then conclude with, “Do you want to attract miracles into your life? Do your part.”

Art: RainbowRhythms


Grandmother Flordemayo